


Clip Show

by meanderingsoul



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Relationships, Comfort/Angst, Gen, Memories, Missing Scene, Season/Series 07, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24975457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingsoul
Summary: It wasn't the first time either of them had been arrested and cuffed on the job, but it never really got less embarrassing. The door shutting with a heavy clunk was a nice touch though.
Relationships: Phil Coulson & Jemma Simmons
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	Clip Show

**Author's Note:**

> Fic is set during 7x3, while Coulson and Jemma are in the cell. That episode was wonderful and the jail cell reveal left a great opportunity.

It wasn't the first time either of them had been arrested and cuffed on the job, but it never really got less embarrassing. The door shutting with a heavy clunk was a nice touch though.

“I didn’t really get to finish with everyone on the bus, but nothing was standing out as suspicious. You?”

“Nothing. Just more of the same. Until Agent Sousa recognized I wasn’t actually Peggy Carter of course.”

Jemma made a disappointed sounding sigh when they finally sat down. There was really nothing to do but wait. Phil could break their cuffs now, but why tip their hand? Better not to make too much noise.

Well, they were kind of past that point. Better not to make it worse.

The metal was cold on his left wrist. It was far from any kind of priority on their list or even on _his_ list of priorities, but he kept twitching into the sensation. Jemma noticed of course. He’d never been very fidgety in these kinds of situations and he’d made sure she knew what to look for in people.

“Is something...wrong?”

“Honestly? I’d gotten so used to having different amount of sensation in my hands that now I’m having to adjust all over again to them being the same.”

“Oh!” she said, with a sympathetic smile he recognized.

He recognized it from almost three years ago apparently and it didn’t take long to vanish again. Jemma had been...quiet so far.

“I've got dates of events,” he said into the silence. “Little summaries. Sometimes it's in your voice, sometimes it feels like I just... read it in a report.”

She nodded at that description. "Good. It was supposed to feel like conversations or like you read it if I didn’t have enough to do better, but I really wasn't sure how it would actually feel for you. I'm sorry it was so...much."

"It's ok. Not sure anything would have made much of a difference. A lot can happen in two years.”

She scoffed at that and Phil smiled to himself. It was a familiar little sound.

“Understatement,” Jemma said.

“I've also got video footage."

"Yes.”

“Pictures of myself. Videos, even a little audio. Most of it’s from the Lighthouse. I know what it's called even though I’ve never been there.”

“We all sort of moved in on accident, but it turned into a proper base.”

He noticed she hadn’t said it was still their base.

“Doesn’t seem like I was in medical very much.” He’d been dying, right? Nothing else had been left out to spare his feelings, if he slept there’d be nightmares, so why was there so little of this?

“There wasn’t any point,” she said bitterly.

The dark tone actually startled him. “Were you angry with me?”

“Of course not!”

Phil waited. Jemma could lie much better than that. The memories he had of teaching her how to lie and be believed were still intact.

“Maybe I was. I should be!”

“Really?” he asked softly.

“You lied to us,” she said and it seemed to bring it all back. “You lied to us Coulson! For weeks! Everything we knew how to do, everything we had access to in the future. We were back on earth and we maybe could have saved you with a regular transplant for god’s sake and you never said a word! we were all at each other’s throats over every option and you just let yourself die!”

She hadn’t forgotten where they were enough to yell, but the little cell was very quiet now like something should have echoed. Jemma looked away towards the floor, getting her control back. Her hands moved to restlessly pluck at one of her suit buttons.

His chest ached. It was strange knowing for sure it was all actually in his head. There wasn’t anything in his chest that _could_ ache right now.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t really fair of me. It's not like you didn't have the right to refuse treatment, it's just...”

“It’s ok. I think I understand.” He couldn’t exactly remember making the decisions he’d made, but it wouldn’t have been easy on anybody.

Phil moved on. “Some of the footage seems to be from a prison cell? I know I traded myself to a General Hale at some point, that she was...at least mostly Hydra.”

Phil knew she was dead, knew Creel was dead, knew how many levels they’d failed Talbot on before he died. He just didn’t have much to go with that knowledge.

Things must have been busy. He had a feeling things had actually been bad.

“We were able to recover some footage of the cameras she had on you at Hydra’s old training base,” Jemma said quietly.

“Some of it’s from the Zephyr. Thank you, for that last bit.”

The video was from a distance, they must have flown right over them when they left, but he could still see it. The little cabin and the white sand. Himself standing on the beach with May pressed close along his side, her head on his shoulder.

It was all he had of Tahiti.

Jemma seemed to understand. “Of course sir.”

He had to look away. This base was built to last, the walls of their cell heavy concrete. He couldn’t make out many sounds outside. Footsteps were infrequent, let along a ringing phone or any other hint the team might know they’d been captured.

“Some of it is the year _after_ I died,” Phil finally said. It wasn’t any less of a weird sentence out loud.

He could see Sarge in his mind. Sarge didn’t move like him. He’d never had his hair like that. It didn’t seem like his face except for how it _was_. Phil could see that body on the ground after Daisy broke its neck, after something had used May’s hand to shoot him. He could see grey images of May flinching back when he lunged at her. He could see the stunned twist on May’s wet face when that _thing_ ran her through, could watch his own hands fling her away like it was nothing. Strange camera angles and unbearably accurate color.

“There was some debate, but we knew we had to get you up to speed thoroughly as possible, and it ended up seeming fairer in a way to treat that time the same. I know it's probably... disturbing to see.”

“I’m pretty sure that was disturbing for everyone to see. Seems only fair.” It was horrific.

She tried to smile. “It really was odd.”

“Simmons.”

“Mm?”

“With everything else that had to be done...the changes to the Zephyr and the supplies for all this, how was there time to string this all together?”

It didn’t add up. They were all rolling with it so far because there wasn’t time to plan, but too many things didn’t add up. Her expression stayed blank for a moment before she spoke and something about the pause wasn’t quite right.

“It honestly went faster than you'd think. Once the algorithm found everything with your face in the relevant time period it was just a matter of putting it together linearly along with the relevant information... Fitz and I...” she trailed off, cleared her throat to try and cover it.

“Jemma.”

That wide-eyed stare wasn’t any different now than it’d been on the Bus years ago.

“If there's something else you need to tell us... sooner is better than later.”

Jemma watched his face and Phil tried to look encouraging more than worried. Her hair was different and the hat was strange, but her face was just the same.

“The details... it will only matter if we succeed.”

That was as good as a yes, there’s something else, and probably several things. The sinking feeling was familiar at least. At the end of the day, it wasn't his call anymore. It wasn't all on him. He wasn’t the director and he wouldn’t be again and despite everything in his head from the last few years, he was still out of the loop on so much.

“I trust you,” Phil said.

“Thank you, sir.” Jemma closed her eyes tight for a moment. “I really did... I really did miss you.”

He couldn’t say he missed her too. He hadn’t had to deal with the time. In a lot of ways, he hadn’t been the one gone.

In another life he’d held her hand in the back of a quinjet. The cuffs made it awkward, but Phil reached over to squeeze her hand.

There wasn’t a ring on her finger right now, but he’d seen it on the Zephyr. He’d lived long enough to see that at least. He couldn’t really remember the wedding now, but he could still recognize the joy on his own face from the video someone had taken.

The clutch back around his fingers was strong. She always had been.


End file.
